Page 51 of Taint My Soul

“No.” I snap. “Don’t touch me.” I grunt and turn away from him.

“Saint.”

“Mason, stop. Stop speaking.” I place my hands on my head, frustration seeping through the cracks of my control. “Please…” The words tear out of my throat even though I try so hard not to let them through.

Not even a second later, he closes the gap between us.

“I just…” I don’t look up at him. His hands caress my cheeks. I lean into the ethereal feel of his touch, soaking up the comfort that comes with being close to him.

I’m not supposed to let him touch me.

I’m not supposed to enjoy this.

This is everything I’m not.

“It’s ok. I’m here with you.” He soothes. Glistening eyes look up at me as he smiles. “Breathe with me, okay. Slowly.” He holds my gaze, chest rising as he inhales deeply.

I mirror the rhythm of his breathing, hands fastening around his suit.

In. Out. In. Out.

“You’re okay. You’re safe.” He pulls me flush against his chest, wrapping his hand around me. I squeeze my eyes hard, breathing as slowly as I can. The voices in my head retreat, and the tension in my muscles dissolves. Holding him feels like I’m standing in front of the ocean, watching the tides rise and fall. Peaceful. It feels too good. Too good for a man like me. Too good for a man who’s never supposed to want anything outside of family legacy.

“Mason,” I whisper.

“I know,” he exhales sharply. “But this,” he lifts his gaze to meet mine. “It’s for you. I want you to know that you are not alone.” His words fill me with so much warmth that it feels like my heart is about to explode from the thrill of being entangled with him.

How can he hold me this way? Does he not see the kind of man I am? A man who buried the bastard who tried to put his hands on him six feet below. How can I not see that what I feel dooms me?

But for once in my life, I don’t feel alone in the darkness. I don’t feel shamed for breaking apart. And that means a lot to me.

I match his breathing synchronously. That’s when the elevator comes to life, a soft hum pressing in from every direction as light floods in. The machine ascends, and my hands loosen around Mason. I force myself away from him.

He takes the hint and backs away, taking his position beside me. Yet every part of me wants to reach out to him.

To feel that feeling again.

The elevator dings as it opens into the hall. Mason steps out first, and I follow. As we walk down the hall, I put my hands in my pockets and enter our office space. He makes a beeline for his desk and settles into his seat, whilst I head into my office. As I pull off my jacket and place it on my chair, the doors open behind me.

“Are you feeling better?” Mason asks. I don’t respond immediately. I don’t even look in his direction.

Fuck, I can’t bear to.

Because every part of my skin burns hot for his cold, and I don’t want to imagine what will happen between us if I give in to this feeling clenching my insides.

He closes the gap between us and stares up at me, placing his hand on my stubble. I grunt and try to back away, but his hand circles my wrist and holds me close. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” I stare at where his hand connects with mine. I breathe shakily and try to force a smile, only to end up chewing my lower lip. His thumb caresses my wrist in such a tender way it makes my heart harden with want.

I break off contact between us before I give in to this thing in me. I step aside. “I’d really appreciate it if we forgot what happened,” I say and sit down. “Is there anything else you want?” My eyes meet him now. His demeanor changes even though he’s struggling to hide it. I see the tick in his jaw and the slight frown on his features.

“No, sir.”

My jaw hardens, gaze dropping to my desk. As he turns to leave, I whisper, “We are driving to Genesis tomorrow.”

“For?”

“Just pack a bag for the week.”